from a journal

On a day off. One lazy. Now with some time to self and some Sauvignon Blanc poured, I think of the week ahead of me even though I don’t want to. And the semester I won’t teach this summer. Or the semester I won’t teach at the JC. Choosing to write in complete silence, or to just kitchen sounds. And for what… don’t know. Just to write.

Told Alice earlier that I may be tiring of Sonoma County, of Santa Rosa. So then what. Don’t know. Want to follow wine to some other place and shape. Where. Of course this writer’s mind goes to Monterey. Teaching at the university, possibly, or one of the something like five community colleges down there. Just thinking of course, but this time aloud and to Alice. Mother of my little beats.

Again taking out Didion’s Magical Thinking ms and thinking of making it a reading assignment for me. Put self back in school. Learn how to do all this over, all over, again. Be a student, have a devoted collection and stack of pages. This day off I’ve been only twirled and twisted in thought, thoughts. 40…. Challenging self to challenge self more. My life changed on the 29th, and then the other night with everyone here “celebrating” my birthday. Why am I phrasing such in such a way, just where my mind is.

I re-focus and situate on the wine, this Sauvignon Blanc my sister made. At first a but herbal and grapefruit tilted but now with more harmony and…